Wandering the City

Slipping easily through the assembled crowd with ease thanks to his slim stature, Faern withheld a scowl as his hardened eyes swept over the figures assembled for their daily shopping. These were their people now, much as he was loathe to admit it. Weaklings, every last one of them; they never did anything to try and help their God move faster so that they could escape their prison, they never even tried to break the seal themselves. They just went about their days, quiet as ever, never looking up, never questioning anything around them, never asking themselves why life had become so monotone, or even when. Drawn along their steady course by an unseen string, they could almost be sheep being lead to the slaughterhouse. It sickened him. "Ji mzilt saph inlu'thin, nind ph'. Neitar talintha bauth nind dros'he, neitar challenging jalbol, neitar talintha whol nintan. Zuch fridj veldrinin riluss dkinoss, r'diinalin rathrea pholor natha sei'lor zuel. Uss iwaotc gumash raza nind rinteith lu'l'v'dre orn'la zhil'za flohlu xuil lotha xor nau questioning. Yeunn."

Where was the proud race of Drow that he and his brother had fought alongside how many centuries ago? Not here. He would even wager that they wouldn't even go to the Upper Earth when the seal was broken, so distraught they would be by even the thought of disruption and change in their lives. He himself had been to the seal several times, and saw flaws in it that an incredibly powerful magic-user, maybe a God could exploit, but not one such as himself. He would ask other Wizards if they wanted to help, if not for the language barrier and his extreme doubt that they would do anything not inside their God's 'will'.

How he wished to go back to those times of war, where it was either glory or dishonor; victory or death. How he wished to feel his magic running on empty as it scraped through him to explode the air around his enemies, to feel the warm splash of blood against his dark skin as he and his twin massacred the soldiers. How he wished to ear the cries of exultation as they won their troops battle after battle, war after war...That was living. Not this. Never this.

Shivering imperceptibly as the memory of the thrill of battle and adrenaline raced through him, Faern blinked himself back to the present, and the scents of the battlefield were replaced with those of the people-filled Marketplace; the cries of agony and rapture drowned out by the calls of merchants seeking to sell their wares. No, the days of battle were sadly over....for now. Instead, it had seeped into a time of imprisonment and, possibly even more deadly when around the ruthless twins, boredom.

~~

Derris made his way through the clumps of people, watching them part before him with a sadistic pleasure. He so much enjoyed having such power over other people. It made him feel....almost God-like, in a way. Of course, he would never think to question Xelveth, but the drug called power was a dangerous thing, and he had more than likely overdosed one too many times. The Watcher laughed at the thought, loving how people moved away from him, trying to get away before he called them out.

A mumbled sentence in the Old Language caught his ear, and Derris turned, focusing on the man who had spoken. Not seen around a lot...all he knew was that the man had a brother that he always stuck close to. Quietly creeping closer, careful not to be seen, he listened to the words, catching a few here and there. He had been so obsessive in his studies, he had even tried his hand at Under Dark. How they had ever spoken such a complex language, he would never know.

His ears piqued when he caught the word 'pathetic'. Cocking an eyebrow, he wondered who exactly the man was referring to. All of them? Specific people? From the snippets he had caught, he got the feeling that he was referring to the entire population. Derris grinned at this. Hopefully this would be another prospect for some fun.

Faern smirked at his brother's words, knowing that it would convey the amusement that his usual demeanor didn't show. Always thinking about the women, why wasn't he surprised.

"Siyo, dos orn'la tlu talintha bauth mina, orn'la'naut dos? Jhal Usstan sieva dos phuul ditronw; tangis'ka nind ph'yibin, mzilst d'mina mir scars dal mal xor otherwise." he replied, eyes sweeping the crowd again, before his own ears picked up the sound of someone approaching them. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of another Wizard coming towards them, an incredibly cocky aura about them. "Mm, lore saph udos inbal natha floh'l, d'anthe dalninuk. Foluss vel'uss lac'na ulu usbyr telanth ulu xor malar qua'laen udossa." he commented dryly, just as Derris pulled up alongside them and spoke in very broken Under Dark.

"Nym'uerus dos haska. Ul'kas akh yeunn. Usstan phor mina. Bel'lain uns'aa."

Faern could barely restrain himself from laughing at the man's speech. Above the general population? That wasn't hard to do. But if the man actually thought he deserved their respect, then he was a little loose in the head.

"Lu'oh bauth dos screa ulu telanth l'xanalress nindel zhah ligah ulu udossta lodias ust, lu'Usstan orn talinth acknowledging dos ulorith." he scoffed in return, turning to leave as he deemed the man not worth his time anymore.

Derris, only having half understood what had been said, got the gist of it and scowled darkly, not taking too kindly to bing insulted and dismissed like that. Eyes flicking to the larger man when he laughed at the jab, the Wizard clenched his fists. He was already on a short string, he didn't have time to have his fun, nor the patience. He just wanted them dead.

Feeling the killer intent spring up, Faern snarled in a way that made several people around them back off more than a few feet as he whipped around, throwing up a magical shield against the steady stream of fire that had been aimed for Killian. Standing back to back with his twin, it reminded him of old times, but the thought was gone as rage overtook his mind. Forcing the attack backwards, he spoke one of the few sentences he knew in both languages. "You will not harm him." he spat venemously, wrapping his magical shield around Derris, blocking the fire in with him. When he felt the heat begin to dim, he sent the magical cocoon careening backwards into the wall of a nearby building, sending a shower of rubble down on the other's head. Faern wanted to much to rip the man's head off, but he knew that would cause a commotion, and he didn't want to have to deal with anything. So instead, he waltzed over, grabbed the man's neck, and hoisted him into the air. "Ka dos rin'ov xo'al ulu thrityh ussta dalninuk 'sohna, Usstan orn elgg dos." he hissed coldly, before dropping the choking man and walking calmly back over to his twin.

Blowing an angry puff of air at hair hanging in his eyes, Derris glared angrily up at Nelonik. Both comments burned angrily inside him. He'd been caught off guard, nothing else. He would have his revenge....but he would deal with the girl first.

Scowling, he let out an agry yell as he shot up to attack her, only to freeze in place. Unable to move his body, the sadistic man flicked his eyes towards the pair standing across the way, but saw that the Wizard there was doing nothing. He was suddenly forced to his knees, even as he struggled to resist, and finally his forehead was pressed to the concrete with arms out to either side of his head, palms on the ground; a subsequent bow to the young warrior in front of him. Before he could even voice a question, a voice echoed through his head, and through the air around him.

"One too many times, Derris, have you attacked the innocent. One too many times, I have let it slip, hoping that you would see the error of your ways. My judgement was obviously incorrect, and I blame myself for how far you have strayed. I will stand by no long." he voice echoed, and Derris knew that it was the Voice of Xelveth that spoke. He tried to open his mouth to say something, anything to protest, but it forced forced shut with a painful clip. "I will not kill you. I may be your God, but I forfeit that right to the people you have wronged. Your fate now lies with them. If you wish to survive, I suggest you start begging." it finished, a sarcastic edge to the tone before it vanished completely. Again he tried moving, but his limbs were locked in place, at the mercy of everyone around him...like how they had been with him.

Faern watched and listened with little interest. This God held no interest for him. He was not against, like some within the city, but he did not follow him, instead he turned back to his brother while the rest were focused on the other Wizard.

"Dos zhaun ves al dos orn'la xun l'noqu toha klez inbalus uk attacked uns'aa, xor wruuty. Ichl myar d'elezz uk zhahus naut shinder ulu thrityh d'elezz, Usstan shlu'ta tesso dos zhahen lorith fau'lad ulu natha malar." he chuckled, cocking his head miniscually to the side as he wondered if his twin would wish to say and watch the man's fate be decided.

Eyes tracing the scene with bordeom and distatse, Faern gladly agreed with his brother. No matter what the man had done, he at least deserved to stand for his death, if not have that final battle. Knowing that his twin wouldn't follow through with his threat to fix the girl's tone, because it was clear that she thought herself above the man he had no doubt could kill her without a second thought, the older twin turned away before he was tempted to go over there and fix the girl himself.

"Mru'shkane zhah natha sreenath klez, nau selg'tarn lu'oh yibin l'marquathrow zhah....tangis'ka Usstan xun satiir nindel toha urge. Unless dos sekene daewl ulu dr'kluth doeb dosst turi'ko, udos zhal sevir lu'ragar fol byr k'lar ulu sate dosst vlos lu'xonathull ssinssrigg, dalninuk." he replied, knowing that nothing would ever satisfy Killian, but it would still be best to leave the area. He had a feeling that if his twin did follow through with his threat, they would have more than a bit of a riot on their hands. That would certainly get their adrenaline pumping, but it still wasn't the best of ideas.

Faern chuckled at the typical Killian comment. "Siyo, nindel orn'la xun ol whol dos, orn'la'naut ol? Naut llaar folbol Usstan l'amith, jhal Dorn tag reztorm ka dos daewl...xor udos gumash, whol h'uena wun udossta dron, invidd." he retorted with a light laugh. Rarely had they gone anywhere without the other. "Ka dos xun ssinssrin uns'aa ulu doer d'elezz, xun naut kyor'ol uns'aa ulu valm wun, naut nindel Usstan rin'ov inbal wun l'draeval p'los." No, he had never joined in on Killian's 'fun'. He would much rather stay sober and amuse himself with his twin's antics when he got drunk...and then blackmail him later if he did anything particularly embarassing.

Faern grinned despite the insult, enjoying he and his brother's usual banter after what had just happened. "Usstan xun naut zhaun bauth l'ust uss, jhal rena l'drada uss xal tlu seke, Usstan k'jakr ragar ol mzild jivvin ulu kyorl dos morfeth natha wael d'dosstan, taga inbau shee'lot usstan lu'guuan phor xuil natha pounding karliikdimonae." he retorted easily, knowing that one of the only reasons his brother called him such a thing was because he rarely had fun in the same way his twin did. He found it much more amusing to sit on the sidelines and watch, when it came to anything except battle.